Birth Of A Killer
by syenosis
Summary: <html><head></head>"Snow. It rarely snowed in England any more. A pale hand reached out, catching a delicate snowflake on the tip of his slender finger. It was cold. He liked that.." The young Beyond Birthday. Yaoi, violence, angst, language, drugs etc.</html>


A/N It's been a long time now since I published anything, so here's a nice little starter to get me going again. In the future, I may update my stories, but I just lost the enthusiasm for them. However, please enjoy this one. I plan for it to be shorter in length so I have more chance of completing it (:  
>I own Beyond Birthday. He lives inside of me. And L Lawliet lives in my bed. Every night.<p>

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><p>Snow. It rarely snowed in England any more. A pale hand reached out, catching a delicate snowflake on the tip of his slender finger. It was cold. He liked that. Raising his hand to his lips, his pale pink tongue caressed the white flake. Yet, in a mere matter of seconds, the beautiful object had vanished, its fragile existence evaporating into nothing.<p>

Beyond Birthday sighed. His hand dropped from his lips, lifting his head to stare up at the grey clouds. They had a slight pinkish tinge to them. A lot more snow would fall. He rubbed his forearms, attempting to force some warmth back into his pale flesh and failing.

His head twitched to the side as someone disturbed his peacefulness with a loud, obnoxious yell.

"Its snowing!" a small, golden haired boy shouted, spinning round in circles and laughing in delight. "At last!" his singsong voice rose in crescendo as his companions joined him, adding to the noise. The quiet had been completely destroyed. Fantastic.

B turned away from them, a dark look crossing his pale, pointed features as he made his way up the drive, towards the main door of Wammy's orphanage. He may as well return to his room, there would be no bliss in remaining out here any more. He pushed open the heavy oak door, entering the grand foyer of the large mansion. It had grown quite dark inside; the storm clouds were responsible for that. B's cold fingers fumbled in his pocket for the stray box of matches he carried with them, pulling it out and striking one, leaning up and lighting the candles that surrounded the panelled walls.

Beyond flinched as he lit the last one, the flame burning down to his fingers – his white skin flashing with pain. "Dammit," he cursed, dropping the match and promptly stamped on it, sucking on his blistering fingertips. "It's not my fucking job." He spat, turning away and walking up the staircase, the golden glow from the candles casting dark shadows across his angular face, throwing his shocking crimson orbs into focus.

He stared out from under a mop of unruly raven locks, his pale face forming a pointed chin and a perfect nose, high cheekbones that made his hollow cheeks look gaunt in the dark shadows and large, dark-rimmed almond-shaped eyes, purplish bruises marking his death-white flesh, evidence of the late nights he spent awake, unable to sleep.

"Backup!" he heard the quiet, aloof voice call his alias and stiffened, every cell in his body standing on edge as a boy made his way down the staircase until he was in front of him. The other could have been Beyond's twin, the same dishevelled hair and flawless skin, the same build and stature. Yet this other boy's orbs were a dark impenetrable grey and the shadows beneath his eyes were much darker, as though he'd never felt the relief of a single nights rest in his life. He was also older, slightly taller than Beyond and despite being thin, still not as scrawny as the odd looking child.

Beyond's crimson eyes lifted to focus on a spot just above the other boy's head, expression completely blank as he read the characters that rested just above the tips of the other orphans raven black hair.

_L Lawliet_.

"Who're you?" Beyond demanded, tone just as unfriendly as _L Lawliet's_. He asked this question, not because he was stupid, far from it, the boy was fully aware that he had just seen the raven's name but he couldn't exactly say it straight off. The last time he'd told someone about his eyes, he'd been sent to a shrink, despite being able to prove the fact. He wasn't to be that naïve again.

"My name is Lost One," the older boy stated in a perfectly flat monotone. "But you will call me L."

Of course, Beyond Birthday already knew this. It was so obvious, it just stared you in the face. The detachment, the confident aura that surrounded him, and that name, _L Lawliet, _the beginning letter was also the same, as though his original name had been completely forgotten and replaced with that simple yet symbolic letter. L.

"Why so lost, L?" Beyond's eyes narrowed as he replicated the monotone of the boy before him – the temptation to use his real name was strong, so compelling; he thought he might actually do so!

No! What was he thinking? To tell the young detective his real name would be a great mistake, and Beyond Birthday _never_ made mistakes. No. This would be his precious secret. The one thing he would hold above this _genius_. Something that proved that he was better.

A slow smirk was spreading across B's face, lips parted slightly to show a glimpse of unnaturally white teeth. He _was_ better, and this just proved it – he had something that the detective did not.

L ignored B's question, half turned, hands buried deep into the pockets of his loose jeans, baggy white shirt enunciating his sloping figure. B's outfit contrasted this, tight black jeans, and a short-sleeved shirt, adorned with one of his favourite bands – Creature Feature.

"Roger and Watari are waiting for us. It is important. Follow me." The boy's monotonic voice seemed to meld words together effortlessly to make one smooth sentence, perfectly clear and perfectly dead. Beyond Birthday made a mental note of this. He would learn absolutely everything about L, anything to get at him and prove himself to be better. Anything.

"What is it about?" once again, B mimicked L's tone, but the raven didn't seem to notice, moving up the stairs in his shuffling way – rather like an old man's but much smoother and quicker. And now Beyond thought about it, absolutely nothing like an old man's. No, this was unique to the detective, and he would learn it. With that cold smirk still in place, B stared at L's feet, attempting to copy the scuffling walk, before slipping back into his own graceful lope, committing the movement to memory. They looked alike, and it was very possible that soon, B could be mistaken for L.

"Kehe…" a soft laugh slipped from Beyond's lips, but he managed to silence it, closing those unearthly orbs briefly. No, he must remain inexplicable around L. He would not let the detective attempt to understand him, see into him, because he had an odd feeling that the man would be able to see into the very depths of his soul if he allowed him too.

"We're here."

"I know."

They drew to a halt in front of the tall wooden door, B behind the taller boy, head down hands in his pockets. They were silent, the same poses, and the same blank, unreadable expressions in place, momentary clones – before L slowly lifted a hand and opened the door to Roger's office. Beyond raised a slim eyebrow in acknowledgement of this action. He would've knocked. Roger and Watari were higher up in the 'food chain' if you like. He had to respect them. L did not. Presumably, L was top. They would respect him. How…unexpected.

L entered and B followed, falling into step behind the older boy, allowing his hair to fall into those ruby irises, blocking them from the adults' sight.

"We're here now, Watari. Roger." That was L's greeting. No, 'hello, how're you'. A simple statement of the obvious – interesting.

"Indeed," Watari agreed, turning away from the window and standing at the edge of Roger's desk, the man in question seated behind the wooden structure, fingers intertwined, a wonderfully perplexed expression in place. Perhaps he was trying to look thoughtful. B did not see it that way; the old man was trying to convince himself that he was on the same intellect as them. How perfectly hysterical, in fact, Beyond could feel yet another smile tugging at his lips, how bothersome!

"I'm afraid we have some bad news," Roger spoke slowly in that deep, grave tone and Beyond fought the urge to roll his eyes skywards, opening his mouth to speak.

"Normally one would say 'I have some good news, and some bad news, which do you want to hear first?' yet you never seem to suggest that there is ever any good news. Does it not occur to you that perhaps we may want to hear something pleasing at least once in our dull, worthless lives?" his lip curled back from his teeth, and he hung his head even lower, wanting to sink his fist into Roger's stupid, wrinkled face. How he detested that useless old man.

"Or perhaps, B, there is simply never any good news." L was the one who responded and the boy immediately stiffened at the soft monotone that was clearly directed at him, despite the owner just murmuring, still facing towards the two older men. "Did that ever occur to _you_?"

Beyond's breathing was quicker now, inhaling and exhaling loudly, fists clenching and unclenching. He would kill that arrogant son of a bitch, hang him up for slaughter and slowly carve his flesh off. B tossed his head upwards hair falling from in front of his wine red eyes, light glinting off them in anger, directing his venomous stare towards the detective, lips drawn back in a silent, feral snarl.

Watari sensed the danger. "Now, now L. No arguments please. B, compose yourself."

The angry boy's head snapped to the side and he eyeballed Watari, but seeing no fear in the old gentleman's face, slowly managed to regain control of the beast inside him.

"Of course. Accept my apologies," B responded, returning to hanging his head downwards. L gave no response.

"Please inform us, what is this 'bad news' of which you speak?" B formed his words in a polite, clipped manner, attempting to sound authoritive and in control.

"I'm afraid, that one of our students has…passed away." Roger's slow tone wasn't sad, yes it was grave, but there was no hint of regret in it. He was completely emotionless. Beyond's head snapped upwards, his eyes wide in surprise, lips parted.

"What do you mean? Who? How?" he reeled off the questions quickly, taking a step forwards. One of the students had _died_? Here? One of the most protected places in all of London!

"I'm afraid he…committed suicide…" Roger murmured, tone ever so slightly downcast now. Perhaps he _did_ have feelings after all. Still, L said nothing, only moving to bow his head in acknowledgement of the tragedy.

"Who was it?" B's voice rose in pitch and he stepped forwards, slamming his hands down on the wooden desk. "Goddammit Roger! Tell me!" A deep feeling of dread was filling B's stomach, making him feel slightly dizzy. He only knew of one person with suicidal tendencies, but it couldn't be…no way! He'd promised. "Roger! _Tell me_!" the boy was screaming now, panic filling up his mind.

"Backup!" Watari protested. "Calm down!"

B fell silent, breathing quickly, small frame shuddering as he held back sobs of fear. "Roger. Please tell me who among us has died." He spoke softly, closing his eyes in angst.

"I'm sorry…" Roger murmured, and B felt his heart wrench, leaving him breathless. "It was your roommate, A."

Then everything that B knew and believed in came crashing down in a cascade of tears.

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><p>AN I hope this was enjoyable..in a strange way :) Thanks for reading~!


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